Chapter 927: Wendao Sect Adds Another Tribulation Transmutation Stage

Throughout history, none who departed the Peach Blossom Sanctuary had ever retraced their steps, and when Yun Mengmeng had bid her tearful farewell to Little Zhi, her heartbreak was absolute, believing it to be a parting forever.

And the genesis of Little Zhi’s departure from that hidden paradise was none other than this fellow named Ye Wanli!

The Silent Daoist had met Yun Mengmeng only once, back when she was a mere child under the age of ten, and he had not accompanied Yun Zhi on her return to the sanctuary to visit family, so he failed to recognize her identity at first glance.

Yet as he carefully parsed the words she uttered upon their meeting, realization finally struck him like a sudden thunderclap.

"You are that little girl who cried so terribly back then!"

"You still dare to speak of it!"

Yun Mengmeng glared, and without another word, she detonated herself, catching the Silent Daoist completely off guard.

No matter how rich a cultivator's combat experience might be, none could instantly react to an opponent whose opening move was self-detonation.

The continuous self-detonation technique Yun Mengmeng had just acquired from the Immortal Fairy was promptly unleashed upon the Silent Daoist; above the Heaven Gate Peak, explosions roared incessantly, leaving the Silent Daoist to drift along the shockwaves like a tattered kite.

Lu Yang felt rather fortunate, glad that Yun Mengmeng had newly learned from the Fairy how to utilize the rudimentary form of the Immortal Dao Fruit, for had she not, it would have been difficult to catch his master by surprise.

"Master was simply fated to suffer this tribulation," Lu Yang said with an air of serene detachment, sounding precisely like a blind fortune-teller conjuring excuses for his own failure to intervene.

Gan Tian thoroughly concurred with her junior brother's perspective: "Since Master resides in the Tribulation Transmutation Realm, it is only reasonable that he undergoes a few mortal tribulations."

Senior Sister Gan Tian’s venture abroad in search of musical inspiration had indeed borne fruit; she had brought back a local specialty—a white melon, sparsely seeded, crisp, exceedingly sweet, and bursting with moisture—which she now sliced into eight neat wedges using a single lute string, passing one to her junior brother as the two of them ate with relish.

The commotion atop Heaven Gate Peak naturally drew a crowd of watching disciples from the Dao Seeking Sect, who pointed and whispered at the repeatedly blasted Silent Daoist, deeply curious as to who could have struck the blow.

"Incredible, does our Dao Seeking Sect truly harbor such an expert?"

The disciples murmured among themselves, burning with curiosity to learn the identity of this hidden grandmaster.

Even if it were the child-like Patriarch of the Prisoner Peak, or Old Tao of the Sutra Library taking action, it could scarcely produce such an extravagant display.

Right at that moment, Yun Zhi hurried back, her eyelids twitching as she beheld Yun Mengmeng’s frenzied self-detonations and the Silent Daoist, who resembled a flickering candle in a tempest.

"Enough, Mengmeng, stay your hand; that is quite sufficient."

Yun Zhi stepped between the two, interrupting Yun Mengmeng’s ceaseless explosions, allowing the Silent Daoist to finally cease maintaining his protective sword qi.

Seeing Little Zhi’s arrival, Yun Mengmeng huffed and desisted, while the Silent Daoist let out a long sigh of relief, genuinely at a loss as to how he ought to treat her.

To strike back would be unjust, given that her grievances against him were entirely legitimate and by no means small.

Yet to refrain from striking back meant his aging bones could hardly withstand such a relentless battering.

Suddenly, a low roll of thunder rumbled, causing the Silent Daoist to instinctively assume that Yun Mengmeng was about to detonate herself once more.

Then he realized the thunder echoed from a great distance, carrying a deeply familiar resonance.

"The thunder of tribulation... who is ascending to the Tribulation Transmutation Realm?"

The Silent Daoist peered toward the source of the rumbling, his eyes narrowing slightly; if his calculations were correct, that direction led to the canyon where his eldest brother secluded himself.

"The Grand Elder is crossing his tribulation!"

Lu Yang came to the same realization; he had visited the Grand Elder’s place of seclusion before, which was filled entirely with coffins.

The Grand Elder had been in seclusion for over a year, and now his endeavors had finally borne fruit.

The collective members of the Dao Seeking Sect were drawn by the Grand Elder's commotion, hurrying toward the vicinity of the canyon to witness the process of ascension.

Lu Yang and his companions rushed along with them.

By now, the sky above the canyon was as black as ink, and the heavenly pressure of the lightning felt like an abyss, profound and unfathomable.

Though the lightning tribulation faced by the Grand Elder was not quite as intense as the one the Silent Daoist had endured, the difference was negligible, perfectly befitting the title of a half-step Tribulation Transmutation cultivator.

Deep within the canyon, a coffin began to shudder; the celestial peaches placed before it were now reduced to mere pits, when suddenly a pale hand emerged from the enclosure to grip the edge of the wood, the veins on the back of the hand bulging fiercely.

With a thunderous crash, the coffin shattered, and the Grand Elder soared into the sky above the canyon to face the tribulation directly, utterly devoid of fear, his head lulled low as he snored away.

"The Grand Elder appears to be asleep; is he truly alright?" Lu Yang inquired with concern.

"It matters not, for Eldest Brother cultivates the Dao of Dreams; he is at his most potent while asleep, where real-world adversaries manifest as alternate personas within his dreams, and as he battles them there, his physical body moves accordingly," the Silent Daoist explained, the memories of being disciplined by a sleepwalking Grand Elder in his youth still vivid in his mind.

The Grand Elder’s tribulation was a monumental event; the Second Elder, the Third Elder... even the Sixth Elder had arrived.

The child-like Patriarch and Old Tao were present as well.

Rumble!

To everyone’s utter surprise, the first bolt of the tribulation lightning erupted from beneath the canyon, the tempest in the sky serving as nothing more than a decoy!

A bolt from the blue rose straight toward the Grand Elder’s face, yet with eyes tightly shut, he brought his hand down like a blade, intending to meet the lightning head-on with sheer force!

Countless arcs of lightning rose like tentacles from below, binding the Grand Elder, who gave a mighty roar as his muscles swelled, manifesting the Vajra-wielding Arhat phantom to tear free from the lightning's shackles, a sight that left Lu Yang’s heart racing with dread.

He could see clearly that the Grand Elder’s flesh had been blasted open, revealing bone beneath the wounds, yet the man seemed entirely devoid of sensation, blindly retaliating against the tribulation while completely ignoring his own injuries.

"He is always like this when asleep—all offense and no defense, incapable of feeling pain," the Silent Daoist explained once more.

No one knew what the Grand Elder was dreaming of, but his expression was fierce and distorted, resembling a demon-slaying Arhat upon an ancient mural.

"Let me tell you, I am the ultimate zombie, having already cultivated to the realm of the Drought Demon! Do you think a mere rabble of unyielding bones can best me?!" the Grand Elder suddenly roared.

"Let me tell you, this graveyard is my domain, and none shall steal it from me!"

"Unconvinced? Then let our fists do the talking!"

Lu Yang stood in stunned silence.

Grand Elder, just what manner of dream are you having?

As the Grand Elder repelled the ninety-ninth bolt, the tribulations both above and below the canyon dissipated simultaneously, and as the sunlight bathed his scarred, god-of-war-like figure suspended in mid-air, the Grand Elder slowly opened his eyes, his expression solemn and rigid, as though he were still savoring the sensation of being a Drought Demon.

"Hiss—ow, ow, ow!"

Soon enough, the post-tribulation agony dragged him back to reality, the residual power of the lightning within him working to mend his body, and only then did he realize he had just crossed a heavenly tribulation, and was now a true cultivator of the Tribulation Transmutation Realm.

"Eldest Brother, you have finally achieved the Tribulation Transmutation Realm, congratulations!" The Silent Daoist was the first to step forward with his blessings, while Old Man Ba and the others flew up in quick succession to offer their felicitations.

A wave of joy swept through the Dao Seeking Sect; the addition of a Tribulation Transmutation cultivator was a grand cause for celebration.

"Senior Brother, how exactly did Little Qin develop this peculiar fondness for zombies and graveyards?" Old Tao asked, casting a bizarre look at the child-like Patriarch, suspecting that the matter was intimately linked to him.

The child-like Patriarch gave a dry cough, too embarrassed to admit that he used to terrify the Grand Elder with zombie stories in his youth, never imagining that far from scaring the boy, it would instead ignite a lifelong fascination.